Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Okay, so I don't know what came over me. I've been fiddling with this for a long time. Finally decided to try and post it. Once in a while my daughter and I play a game where we try to mix metaphors. But it doesn't work so well to beat a dead horse mid-stream, right? I mean, it's not rocket surgery but … Anyhoo … I've taken bits from three pieces of literature and incorporated them into this little story.

And I swiped the title from the song Satellite Heart by Anya Marina.

Satellite Heart Lament

They could have been any group of friends having fun, laughing and talking around the large work island in the bright kitchen. The five of them together, enjoying one another's company on a sunny afternoon.

There was one in that group of five that gathered ingredients and implements to make lunch.

There was one other that was set apart from the group of five. The sixth, separated from the rest by the ceramic tile of the kitchen and the expanse of beige carpet in the pleasant living room. He sat by the wide front window, seemingly relaxed, his long frame lounging comfortably in a cream colored over-stuffed chair. His denim covered legs propped up on a matching upholstered ottoman, an aged leather-bound book in his strong hands.

.

When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed;

When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed …

.

Through his chin-length, spun-gold hair, he glanced up from the open book. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took all of them in.

Emmett's muscular form was seated to the left side of the kitchen island; a perpetual glint of mischief in his eyes. He would be called the imp of the group if he hadn't been built like a professional hockey defenseman.

Beside Emmett was Rosalie, who could be described as the epitome of "ice princess". Her beautiful face often seemed cold. Her long waving hair was the color of pale ripened wheat, but what gave away the lie of her unapproachable demeanor was just a touch of warm honey highlights framing her face. If you cared to look, that touch of honey gave a hint of the warmth that was hidden within. Warmth that shone through her eyes whenever she would smile at Emmett and his antics.

On the opposite end of the island was Alice. Short, inky black hair spiked around her elfin face; her tiny frame brought to mind a small bird, her flight graceful and quick as she moved from perch to perch.

Next was Edward. He stood by the granite-topped work area, hip resting against the counter as his slim, eternally late adolescent form bent over the fifth member of the group.

The fifth member. Bella at the center, though she didn't quite stay at that central point.

.

As the husband is, the wife is: thou art mated with a clown,

And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,

Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

.

She was the one who moved back and forth around the kitchen, gathering supplies to make tacos for lunch. Rich, mahogany hair draped over her shoulders and fell luxuriantly to the center of her back. It swirled airily around her as she spun again to make her way to the kitchen window to grab a bright red tomato from the sill.

She returned to the center of the work island but she was not truly a part of their group. Though they were all pale, Bella's skin emitted a subtle glow. The warmth that radiated from her was like the gentle heat that shined from the sun in the Spring as the earth began to reawaken from its cold sleep, while the others who circled around her shone with the cold, silvery light of the moon. Though there was some small tug between each of them and her, it was the strength of her gravitational pull that had captured and kept them near.

.

I'm a satellite heart lost in the dark

I'm spun out so far, you stop, I start

But I'll be true to you …

.

Even he, the sixth member of the group who had the longest path — he who maintained the farthest orbit from her shining light — could not resist the draw of her life and heat. He was a hurtling comet, straying far into the endless frigid wastes, but longing for her warmth and unable to escape the lure of her attraction. He was irresistibly drawn back to her, following a trajectory he no longer had any control over.

.

… I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong …

… But you're the only thing I see …

.

He would skirt quickly by her warmth, being heated and enlivened to his very core. As he would fleetingly pass near her, he would momentarily be brightened by her radiance — his glacial heart awakening and expanding, becoming incandescent with the proximity of her resplendent luminescence. Exalting in her brilliance, joyful bliss would fill him, surround him, blanket him, leaving him yearning to be finally captured and consumed.

.

… I have loved thee long …

.

He was unable to escape. He was tethered by her and to her; only to be flung away again; shooting away, only to be brought back again and again — to complete yet another lonesome circuit. Never to be caught completely.

.

In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love …

.

If she was the sun that brought life to their barren landscape, she was also the delicate first bloom of Spring.

.

… And her whisper throng'd my pulses with the fulness of the Spring …

.

They were the frigid blanket of snow covering the unyielding and lifeless ground. Though her being was so fragile, so delicate, so easily bruised, she burst through their icy grip, bringing color and life to their static and frozen landscape.

.

Better thou and I were lying, hidden from the heart's disgrace,

Roll'd in one another's arms, and silent in a last embrace …

.

"Jasper! What is that infernal nonsense going through your head?" Edward asked as he looked up from his work in the kitchen.

Jasper's tawny eyes glanced up once more from the page of his book. "It's If I Had a Million Dollars by the Barenaked Ladies."

Emmett started in surprise as Edward's eyebrows arched up toward his unruly mop of gingered hair.

"Ya know, Rose," Emmett said, guffawing and wrapping one of his bear-like arms around her shoulders, "if I had a million dollars, I'd buy you a green dress." He noisily kissed her temple while she playfully swatted at him.

Bella set her taco down carefully on her plate and shook an admonishing finger at Emmett. "But, Em, not a real green dress. That's cruel."

They all burst out with surprised, appreciative laughter.

All except for the copper-haired Edward who rolled his eyes disdainfully. "True literature, that," he murmured too low for Bella to hear.

But when deep brown eyes met the liquid amber of his, the lone golden-haired man basked in the pleasure and delight radiating from she who was the center of his universe.

.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and he bears a laden breast,

Full of sad experience, moving toward the stillness of his rest.

I am shamed thro' all my nature to have loved so slight a thing …

… I have loved thee long …

And if I had a million dollars

I'd buy your love.

.

Notes:

Various lines from:

Locksley Hall by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Satellite Heart by Anya Marina

If I Had a $1,000,000 by the Barenaked Ladies

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